Mrs. Bennett had not been lying. The manor had undergone many changes and a good, thorough cleaning as well, for it bore a new look. The woods surrounding the house had been cleared, and the area had been bought over by Mrs. Warren and transformed into a garden. The manor no longer retained its gloomy look, but looked rather bright and inviting. The dark roofs had been replaced with red ones and the walls had been repainted.
The interior had been refurnished and refurbished. Everything had been replaced. More windows had been installed, letting a good amount of sunlight through and the lighting had improved. The place was also spick-and-span, without the usual layer of dust and grime covering the furniture and objects. Jamie had the impression of a snake that had just shed its skin and appeared with a whole new, much more refreshing look.
"Um, mom, are we at the right place?" Sophie asked, before Jamie could, as they took in their surroundings.
Mrs. Bennett chuckled. "We are."
"Did the ghost of Estella appear in Mrs. Warren's dreams and prompt her to refurbish this old place?" responded Sophie. At this, Jamie smirked slightly, pondering on the irony of it. They were led by the same old butler into the living room where they sat carefully, to avoid damaging the new furniture in any way and also because they didn't really believe it was there and that the manor being refurbished was just a dream.
"Sophie, it would be best if you don't bring that up in front of Mrs. Warren," Mrs. Bennett chided. "I don't think 2 years is enough for someone like her."
"Oh, it should be. It didn't take me long to get over dad," Sophie said, nonchalantly.
"Soph!" Jamie snapped, frowning. He cast a worried glance at their mother, but the latter appeared unmoved by Sophie's remark. Before Jamie could say anything else, they were graced with the presence of Mrs. Bennett's sister, who, just like her house, had undergone a whole lot of changes. Despite being older than Mrs. Bennett, she was then looking about ten years younger, and almost like an older version of Estella. As she pulled their mother into a tight embrace, Jamie and Sophie exchanged curious glances. Jamie wondered if there was a Guardian of Enlightenment who had happened to pass the manor and infiltrated Mrs. Warren's mind.
"Is that Jamie? And Sophie?" she exclaimed, turning her attention to the children. "My, look at how you've grown! Come on, let me see you."
As Jamie stood up, he glanced at the portraits of his ancestors which were still where they were, only each one of them had had their frames polished till they shone. It was evident the dust on the pictures had been removed, for they looked much clearer than they had, the last time Jamie visited. His eyes traveled up the stairs, searching the portraits and they finally landed on one at the very top, almost not visible from where he stood, but it was there, alright. Jackson Overland.
"So, are we celebrating Easter?" Jamie asked, his fingers crossed. He still could not wipe out the memory of Mrs. Warren canceling Christmas after Estella's death. For all they knew, she could've given up on celebrations and holidays.
"Of course we are!" Mrs. Warren responded. "How can one not celebrate Easter? It might not be the number one holiday like Christmas, but that doesn't mean it should just be cast aside as a regular day, don't you think?"
If Bunny could hear that, Jamie thought, a small smile creeping onto his face.
"And I've invited the children from the village over for the egg hunt," their aunt went on. "The more the merrier, right?"
Jamie glanced over at his sister. "Maybe she's possessed," Sophie mouthed and Jamie couldn't contain the grin spreading across his face. The village. He had almost forgotten.
"You hid the eggs?" Mrs. Bennett asked.
"Well, the servants and I painted them, and I left it to them to hide them around the area, particularly the garden. I must say, it was kind of fun."
Sophie caught her brother's eye again and mouthed, this time, "Yes, definitely possessed."
"What about the Easter Bunny?" Jamie asked.
"What Easter Bunny, dear?"
"Well, you know. The rabbit who paints and hides the eggs? He might've left some eggs of his own as well."
Sophie rolled her eyes as Mrs. Warren replied, "He doesn't exist, Jamie, but I'll let the children think the opposite. When they're older, they will understand there's no such thing and that every Easter, the eggs will be hidden by the adults. And you, Jamie, a boy of 17, don't tell me you're still believing in all those fairy tales!"
Here we go again, thought Jamie, sighing inaudibly. The butler then led them out into the garden where they loitered about, while awaiting the children's arrival. Sophie couldn't contain her curiosity and checked beneath the bushes to see if she could find any of those eggs first.
"You're getting an unfair advantage," Jamie remarked, but was ignored. After a few moments, he decided to bring it up. "Soph, you really don't believe in the Easter Bunny anymore?" he asked.
Sophie looked up. "Of course not," she replied, before resuming her search. "Thought you were already sure of that. And there's really no way you can get me to believe, so don't try."
"Why won't you believe? Is it a sin to you?"
"No. I just think it's all really silly. There's no such thing as bunnies hiding eggs on a special day for children to collect, except in fairy tales. And you know very well I don't read those anymore," Sophie said.
Jamie didn't give an immediate reply as he watched Sophie pluck out her first egg from a hydrangea bush. "Well, whether you like it or not, the Easter Bunny has a gift for you today," he finally spoke.
Sophie frowned. "Seriously, Jamie Bennett. Did the Easter Bunny morph into Santa Claus all of a sudden?"
"Nope. He didn't even ask for the latter's help."
Jamie turned and spotted Jack perched high up in an elm, frost swirling all over the bark. The winter spirit pointed at the ground and a moment later, a hole opened up. As the Guardian of Fun flew out of the elm and upwards, Jamie hurriedly turned back to Sophie.
"Sophie! We have to get inside immediately!" Jamie exclaimed, grabbing his sister's arm and half-dragging her back to the manor. "Can't you feel that chill? There's going to be a snowstorm!"
"In spring. Very cool, Jamie," Sophie responded, a scowl etched on her face.
Just as she said that, the sky turned a flint-grey and slowly turned all dark and gloomy. The temperature dropped several degrees as snow began drifting down. Sophie finally stopped resisting and followed Jamie into the house, where their mother and aunt were gazing out at the snow, pondering aloud what had happened. Jamie dragged his sister past them and up the stairs, past the gleaming portrait of Jackson Overland and into the room they had previously used on their last visit.
"Look here, Sophie!" Jamie said. "That snowstorm isn't an accident! It's Jack Frost! He and the Easter Bunny, along with me, have hatched a plan to try and get you to believe again. You remember what happened seven years ago, don't you? Maybe you don't remember all of it, but you do remember enough. How can you just take it as a dream? I meant what I said earlier, about the Easter Bunny having something in store for you. Being the Easter Bunny, there's not really much he can give you, but I just hope it'll be enough to bring back your memories and your belief."
Sophie was stunned. She could see in her brother's brown eyes that he was telling the ultimate truth. But at that moment, the ultimate truth didn't seem to make any sense. She couldn't tell why her brother's belief in characters from folklore and mythology was so strong. Could it be real? Somehow, she knew Jamie wasn't insane. Well, not yet. But who was the one who had been hallucinating and talking to himself? Who had presented her a box of teeth? No doubt she had seen memories of her childhood, some of them were happy ones she had almost forgotten, but it was still beyond odd.
"Jamie, look..."
"Can you just give me a chance?" Jamie asked, his eyes pleading. "I'll prove to you I'm not mad. I've not been hallucinating. I promise you won't regret this."
Sophie didn't give an immediate reply. There was really no harm in believing her brother for once, something she always did when she was younger. Had he ever tricked her? Well, yes, definitely. But at the end of the day, they were all just jokes and some of his tricks. But at that moment, he seemed pretty sincere and desperate. Exasperated, even.
"Fine! But just this once!" she snapped.
Jamie heaved a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Soph," he said. "Like I said, you won't regret it. Come down to the garden immediately as soon as the snowstorm is over."
"This will probably last for hours," Sophie responded, gesturing towards the window, at the snow falling thickly and heavily outside. Jamie smiled.
"Just believe in Jack Frost. He'll clear this thing in a matter of minutes." With that, Jamie ran out of the room and thundered down the stairs.
Sophie turned to glance at the window, and was slightly appalled when, in a couple of minutes, the snowstorm stopped as suddenly as it had began. She hurried downstairs, pausing for a moment at Jackson Overland's portrait. She recalled having seen before a boy who looked exactly like him, only with white hair and different garments. Jack Frost. She vividly remembered Jamie desperately telling their mother this was the portrait of Jack Frost, painted before he died.
Sophie hurried down the rest of the way, with that growing feeling inside her. The feeling that Jamie was telling the truth, despite how senseless it sounded. She ran past Mrs. Warren and Mrs. Bennett who were wondering about the village children and raced to the garden, but skidded to a halt as she saw what rested in it.
A gigantic egg, about her height, and three times her width stood in a part of the garden that was free from bushes and trees. The egg had been beautifully painted, with such skill Sophie had never seen before. She couldn't help but feel certain that even her art teacher couldn't hold a candle to the painting displayed on the egg. She noticed paintings of a blonde girl gracing the egg as well, and it took her a moment before she realised it was her. The first one was a painting of her as a two-year old, the second, a child, third, at her current age. As she rounded the egg, she spotted a message painted on it;
Happy Easter, ankle-biter. -Bunnymund
She stood there, gaping at it. "He's real," she finally said, in barely a whisper, before sensing the sudden presence of someone else besides Jamie in the garden.
Thanks for reading and happy Easter! Please review.